


Silence

by sp00kworm



Series: Blood or Slaughter [1]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: AFAB Bloodhound (Apex Legends), Bar Room Brawl, Bar date, Bartender Reader, Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Choose Your Own Adventure, Choose Your Own Ending, Dates, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gender Neutral Reader Insert, Guns, Headcanon Bloodhound appearance, Icelandic Bloodhound, Multi, Pet Care, Star Gazing, Tsundere Revenant, Tsunderes, Violence, prowler - Freeform, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28095645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp00kworm/pseuds/sp00kworm
Summary: As a Bar owner, you saw people from all walks of life come to drink and talk in your bar. Marriage parties to the down and out. There was never one person with the same story. That much was obvious one night when you were faced with a curious, rogue looking fellow. The lights went black. The door burst open and your life was changed. Murder. A murder in your bar and hush money to cover it up was laid in your lap. The curprit decides to come and drink in your bar again, followed closely by a very mysterious legend.
Relationships: Bloodhound (Apex Legends)/Reader, Bloodhound (Apex Legends)/You, Bloodhound/Revenant (Apex Legends)/Reader, Revenant (Apex Legends)/Reader, Revenant (Apex Legends)/You
Series: Blood or Slaughter [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152137
Comments: 12
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1: A Bar Brawl

Working for a living. How you hated it. Well, it wasn’t as bad as it could be since you owned your own business. The city was quiet this time of night, but the bar was the total opposite. You smiled pleasantly as you served a group of women with cocktails. They were higher class, flashing their credits like it was pocket change. You turned the money into the till before turning back to the task at hand, inventory of the alcohol. Quite a few of the bottles needed replacing and you pulled out your notepad to quickly scribble down the brands of each. The bustle continued behind you as the party of women jeered and giggled in the corner, fluttering their eyelashes at a new group of men that entered the bar. They whistled and rushed over to the bar for their drinks.

“Hey there! A round of beers!” The tallest man jeered at you, laughing as one of his companions rushed over to the group of women.

“Coming up.” You snapped your notebook and pencil onto the bar as you turned to grab the glasses from under the wood, holding them between your fingers before you started pulling the drinks. You watched the men saunter away, leaving two to collect the drinks. You stacked the pints in a line on the bar. They paid you with transfer before joining the women in the corner.

“Rough night?” You jumped as you picked you notepad up, the pencil in your grasp dropping from your fingers as you peered to your left. There was a rogue looking man sat to your left, playing with a coin, running it over his fingers

“You could say that again.” With a small sigh you picked up your pencil, “It’s been insanely busy.” You turned back to note the last few bottles of liquor you needed for restocking. There was an expensive whiskey which you weren’t sure you had in the back.

“Let’s see how much rowdier it gets with those lot around.” The man jabbed his thumb towards the group before looking at the door, grinning over the top of the whiskey you had poured him. The rogue grinned and you looked over to the door in confusion as the lights flickered.

“Maybe there’s another storm...” You muttered as the lights flickered again before the power shorted and everyone was plunged into darkness. Silence.

The shocked murmurs of the patrons quickly turned into upset hysterics from the women in the bar. The men seemed concerned as they continued to drink. All eyes turned on you as the lights remained out for longer than normal. Power surges were normal in this neighbourhood’s the amount of electricity that was used in the robotics plant nearby. It was a job creator but the community sometimes suffered for the privilege of the engineering potential. You looked up at the lights and looked at the bulbs just before a whirring sounded. Black and orange energy crept from the screw fittings of the bulbs, crackling and whirring with unholy noise.

“I guess this is my last stand.” The rogue man stood and flipped the coin in his hand before looking at the result under his palm. He hissed in upset, “Tails. Maybe I lose.” There was a rush of power again before two orange lights appeared outside the glass panelling of the door. The patrons screamed as claws raked over the glass, making a shrill screeching noise as they connected with the metal second.

The metal crunched before a heavy metal foot connected with the hinges, slamming the door open to reveal a titanium covered robot. Then the panic started. Men and woman rushed for the back entrance, streaming past you and the bar, ducking low when the rogue man revealed a Wingman Pistol. He spun the pistol over his hand and snapped the ammo into place as the monstrous robot hunched and climbed into the door frame. You ducked under the bar but peered over the edge as pistons clunked and the creature ducked low. It was then that it clicked. Hammond Robotics’ symbol was stamped onto one of the fingerless leather gloves. You covered your mouth and ducked again as the Simulacrum hummed, orange optics roving over the bar to find the rogue man with his pistol drawn.

“Finally.” The Simulacrum purred darkly, “Another robotics lab-rat for my list.” His hand span into a sharp point before whirring again to reveal claws, “Scream for me, skinsuit. I’ll make it hurt enough for the both of us to enjoy.”

A gunshot made you cringe under the bar, clutching at your head as you listened to the Wingman thunder with shots. They slammed into the walls with cracks and you heard the sound of the Simulacrum’s pistons slamming before he cackled, and his limbs twisted backwards. You looked up as his robotic body slammed into the ceiling, claws and knives slamming into the plaster and metal as he walked over your head, dodging bullets as his arms snaked and rippled in their sockets. His orange eyes peered downwards. You were caught like a rabbit in a predator’s gaze, looking back into the fiery depths as his head tilted, the orange spinning with a swirl of black as he watched you shiver and huddle further back under the bar.

“Duck, skinsuit.” The robot purred as the rogue jumped over the bar and you slid back to avoid having your hands stood on.

“Get back here you fucking monster!” The man howled, “You’re just another failed experiment!”

“Oh? A failure, am I?” The Simulacrum hummed as he detached from the ceiling, his hand spinning into a spear like appendage as he launched himself downwards with a grunt.

The robot crashed into the floor with a great clatter and you peered up at him, crouched before you, trying to gauge whether you were going to be collateral damage as his head span, the red scarf wrapped around his head and neck fluttering as he pushed off and rushed at the rogue.

“I’m the monster? I killed for your disgusting little customers for three hundred years!” He jeered as his hands sliced towards the man, bullets pinging off the plating covering his shoulders and face. One slammed near his eye socket, leaving a dirty black streak over his bone white faceplate.

“You’re killing for fun now. Your programming isn’t…” The Wingman clicked. Empty. The Simulacrum chuckled, his hand spinning as he dashed forwards again and sliced at the man’s guts. A pained cry rang against the walls and you dared to look to your left as the Simulacrum hoisted the rogue by his neck, claws trailing down the soft skin before he dug them into the cheeks, humming before he started to tear away chunks of skin.

“Scream for me then. Make this fun, skinsack.” He peeled away a nice chunk of skin and laughed lowly as he dragged the man across the bar, sending pint glasses flying as his legs thrashed in the air. Beer soaked the bar top as he smashed him against the levers, but the Simulacrum seemed indifference to the stench as his clawed fingers wrapped tight around the man’s throat. The rogue gave a strangled cry as he dropped his weapon and pried at the robot’s fingers in a futile attempt to be free.

“Fuck…you…” He cursed at the Simulacrum, “And fuck…that code…” He choked out as his lips went blue and his eyes ringed with red from lack of oxygen.

“Tell me where it is.” The Simulacrum demanded as his other hand’s fingers formed a sharp spear, linked together in a shining point of titanium.

“Fuck you.” The man spat a wad of spit at the Simulacrum’s faceplate. The robotic man didn’t flinch, but his orange burning eyes flicked to the saliva on his cheek before he growled and slammed the point of his fingers into the other’s gut, humming joyfully as blood poured down his arm.

“What have we here?” The Simulacrum let go of his neck to rummage in his pocket, revealing an access card to the building labelled with the lab he was allowed into. The robotic man scoffed, “You’re barely even a coder but you have sensitive information access…Access to the source.” He hummed and slid the card into a compartment under his scarves, “Ooo.” He cooed, “Is that your spleen?” He questioned. His arm whirred as he squeezed the rogue’s organs. A scream bounced off the walls and you huddled back under the bar, covering your ears until eventually, the noises stopped, and a dead body slumped against the bar top. Silence. You breathed quietly, shaking under the counter before you swallowed and dared to crawl out from underneath the wood. Peering around, you peeked over the bar and tried to ignore the body slumped against the back of the bar beside you, dead eyes looking past you at the liquor cabinet.

“Boo.” The Simulacrum dropped from the ceiling with a snap and hiss of his legs, his weight thudding to the ground as he towered over you, orange gaze burning and spinning before the optics flickered to bright whole light again.

You jumped, grabbing for a glass before he snatched it from your grip and slammed it back down on the bar top.

“Ah, ah, ah, skinsuit.” He waved a sharp finger in front of you, “Not a word. Shh.” The claw tapped your mouth, “Listen to me and listen quick.” He grunted at you, his fingers flaring threateningly under your chin, pointed at your jugular, “You don’t say a word about this to anyone. You didn’t see anything.” He tapped the sharp titanium against your chin once, “Not a soul.”

You swallowed against the sharp edges and nodded once.

“Good.” The Simulacrum looked at the bar and snatched the expensive whiskey the man had been drinking, his skeletal like nose sniffing at the contents before he hummed and opened his mouth. The inside was dark, but copper plating shined inside before he snapped it closed again like a trap. The whiskey disappeared, and there was no noise of liquid dripping onto the floor. The Simulacrum’s mouth remained closed as he spoke, “Good taste.” There wasn’t another word as his arms whirred and the pistons in his legs readjusted before he walked to the hole where the front door had once hung on its hinges, “Thanks for the drink.” And he was gone, past the giant glass windows and into the night, leaving you with a bleeding body as the police entered the bar.

It took far too long for the Apex Games to reimburse you for the damages. There was though, after about a weeks delay, a fat cheque left in your post-box for you to collect. It was perhaps far more than the bar was worth, but you knew it was hush money. Keep quiet or they take everything. That was the threat. A threat because they couldn’t keep their murderous toys under control with the money, slaughter and fame of the Apex Games alone. Revenant. You had learned his name when you watched a match, watching the Simulacrum hiss and spit at the drone cameras when they got too close. It was a slaughter until the other team found the death totem, then the entire match was won by a curious line-up of Bloodhound, Lifeline and Gibraltar. He deserved the electrocution from Lifeline’s drone you decided as you turned on the Holoscreen in the bar for one of your regulars. You had access to the sport channels with the new ariel you’d had installed, and it kept a lot of older patrons coming back weekly for the matches. Softly, you whistled as you pulled another pint and handed it to an older looking worker. He was sooty and probably had spent the day mining ore in the distant mountain. You smiled, took his money and thanked him before continuing with the rounds down the bar, not noticing as it got later and closer to closing.

“Nice bar, skinsuit.” A robotic voice jeered before a bar stool creaked noisily under a heavy weight. You sucked in a breath as you looked into the corner of the bar, meeting orange optics as the Simulacrum seemed to sneer, “Made use of the money I see by upgrading. Nicer décor now. Much more…” He rotated a hand, “Swish, or whatever.” He didn’t seem to really care as he grunted in a poor attempt at appreciation.

With a scowl, you reached to snatch away another customer’s drink from his prying fingers, “Revenant. I learned about you and your escapades after you slaughtered a man in my bar.” You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at his chassis, “You have guts showing your face here again.”

The few patrons left ignored your anger and the confrontation that was about to occur, looking down at their drinks and ducking their heads low as the Simulacrum turned his gaze to the crowd.

No one stood in your defence. Revenant's orange burning eyes span with processing before his metal fingers rapped against the bar in two swift pounds. He shifted back in his seat and then looked over at your liquor cabinet.

“What about if I buy a drink?” Revenant grumbled, his eyes moving over your hands as you reached for a tumbler on reflex. You slammed it against the bar a little too harshly and gave him a smile as you gestured to the liquors behind you.

“We have a new Cognac. Or would you prefer something more bitter?” You snarked as the Simulacrum hummed, once again indifferent to your attitude as he leaned around you to look at the liquors.

“Whiskey then. That one I had last time wasn’t strong enough.” Revenant complained with a snort as he reached into a pouch on his hip and flashed his wallet of chips from his winnings. Loaded was an understatement. He placed one chip out worth a thousand and hummed again.

“Yeah. That’ll pay for it.” You pulled a heavy, expensive bottle of liquor down, a malt whiskey and offered him the bottle after pouring him a shot.

Burning orange eyes followed your hands under the bar as you reached for the ice bucket, “Don’t bother with ice.” Revenant rumbled as he rotated his hand backwards, wiggled his fingers, then rotated it back the other way, ignoring you as you slammed the cover back onto the ice cooler a little too harshly.

Your eyes turned away from him as you went back to serve another customer, “The bottle is yours by the way, bot. Try not to get too drunk before closing.”

“Pah!” Revenant scoffed as he reached for the tumbler and swirled the dark fluid inside, “If you think I can get drunk I might have to disappoint you, skinbag.” He snarled before he poured a small amount of liquor into his mouth, snapping it shut as he ran the fluid around over the sensors.

You watched him before raising your voice, “Do you even need to drink or eat? You don’t piss fluid out of your chasis so I assume you can but…”

“I can. So, I do. Just fluids.” Revenant replied shortly, his fingers moving to tuck his scarf back over his shoulder, “If you’re gonna ask if there’s any point. There isn’t. Its…a sentiment.” He hissed, seemingly disgusted with himself before he grunted against and finished the whiskey before pouring himself another one and knocking that back as well.

You ignored him for an hour as the regulars called for their final drinks before paying and packing up to leave with lingering stares at the Simulacrum in the corner with his feet up on another stool and his arms stretching and bending at odd angles as he played with the Silencing orb. The orange and black orb crackled with energy as he threw it up and caught it between two fingers, pointing it threateningly at another patron who looked at him too long.

“Move it skinsuit.” Revenant rumbled as a man with a robotic arm lingered behind him, “This’ll get messy otherwise and I love a good mess on my hands. His fingers pointed into a sharp spear as the ball of crackling energy snapped back into the launcher. The man snorted but took his drink, drank the last dregs before leaving, leaving the bar in silence with just you and the Simulacrum perched in the corner of the bar.

The towel was damp with beer as you wiped the side down before throwing it into the basket for washing and taking out the disinfectant spray. You sprayed down the side and made sure to catch Revenants arm in the mist.

“Watch it, skinsuit.” He grunted as he snatched his drink from the chemicals and poured the rest into himself. The bottle was still on the bar, and he took hold of that and leaned back to let you wipe down the side in front of him.

“You’re really not taking my hint, huh?” You grumbled, “Revenant, its closing time, and unlike you robots, I really do need to sleep.”

“Pah.” Revenant huffed, “I paid for this.” He held up the bottle, “So I’m going to finish it, in peace.”

You opened your mouth to protest just as the front door opened again and a heavily clothed individual stepped inside. They were strapped in belts and pouches and thick leather with heavy furs, their face covered with a pair of goggles and a full respirator. The respirator whooshed with air as they politely closed the door behind them, turning their orange goggled gaze to the edge of the bar as they tilted their head to peer around.

“Oh goodie. They sent the lap dog.” Revenant sneered at the other person, his orange gaze dropping to find the tube of the ventilator to pull if he needed a quick escape.

“You were not exactly hard to track. Your tracks are very ...distinguishable.” A heavy Scandinavian accent was muffled through the respirator, “They want you back before the morn’. We have interviews.” They continued, ignoring you in favour of sizing up the Simulacrum.

“And what, ‘Hound? You gonna drag me home kicking and screaming?” Revenant took hold of the ball of energy, the silence threat hanging over his supposed foe.

“Yes.” The other hummed as they reached for a knife on their belt, “I will drag you back, silent, with both your arms and legs removed, bot.”

“Sure.” Revenant purred, “I’ll look forward to gutting you really slow in the next match, skinsuit dog.” His claws slammed at the bar.

“If you’re going to gut each other, do it outside!” You shouted between the two of them. The newcomer appeared startled as you slammed the bar door up and then back down. Revenant’s optics squinted in glee as you stood between them both, “I want no more bloodshed in my bar!”

The newcomer lowered their head, “I apologise. I am Blóðhundr, you can call me Bloodhound."

Your eyes widened, “Another Legend. Wow. Its an honour to meet you. You’re the three times champion, right?”

Bloodhound nodded their head, “That I am. I am sorry for the intrusion, but I have been sent to collect a rogue maniac.” They sounded smug behind the mask.

“A maniac. That’s got a nice ring to it.” Revenant took another glug from the bottle.

“Are you inebriated, bot? You embarrass yourself.” Bloodhound snapped as they drew their knife and pointed it at Revenant, “I am sure the bartender has had enough of you.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” You rolled your eyes.

“Careful, skinsack, maybe I’ll take more than just this bottle, hm?” The Simulacrum purred, “I can think of a few things I would like more…Maybe your guts as a necklace.”

“Quiet.” Bloodhound snapped, “We go.” They pointed the knife to the door, “Now.”

You looked between them both and took a step back, “Look. Its closing time and I want to sleep. So, again, can you please take this outside. Its cool having celebrities in here, but I don’t need another insurance claim and hush money on my hands.”

Bloodhound tilted their head, “Hush money?” Their goggles looked over at Revenant, “This was your doing then. Slátra in the ring was not enough?” They sounded simply disappointed, “You never fail to give into your programming like some primitive tool.” The insult was sharp but muffled through their respirator.

“Watch it, dog, you’re still a squishy skinbag like the rest of them.” Revenant threatened as he stood up, the bottle in hand as he walked around the bar and loomed over Bloodhound, his clawed hands held up in front of their goggles and respirators. He flicked a bead on their hat before he looked back at you with burning orange eyes, “See you around, bartender.” Revenant hummed as he headed back towards the door, tucking his scarf over the bottom of his face.

Bloodhound snapped their hunting knife back into their sheath on their chest before nodding at you and placing a hand over their heart, “I apologise for the intrusion. Pray, have a good night.”

“Thanks for clearing him out for me, Bloodhound. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.” You smiled as well as you could as you scooped up Revenant’s used glass, “Be safe. He’s… something.”

“Something is perhaps kind.” Bloodhound tipped their hat before they followed Revenant out of the door.

A call of a Raven followed them as the door closed and you were left in peace.

The next game was broadcast over a week later, and you tuned the holoscreen in as a crowd gathered in the bar to watch. The drones were following the last two teams, and it seemed that Revenant and Bloodhound were working together, with Caustic as their third. Gibraltar, Octane and Lifeline were the other squad left alive, hunkered down on the high ground with Gibraltar’s shield stopping the bullets from Bloodhound’s Kraber. It was setting out to be a long and slow final match though Revenant and Bloodhound possessed more rushing capabilities. Caustic was the first to move before Revenant followed, leaving his totem in the guard of Bloodhound as they continued to rain deadly shots against Gibraltar’s defences. Bloodhound span in time for a scan to see Octane moving against them, and they turned with a quick shot, downing Octane with a precise headshot as he spat profanities at them. Lifeline was too far for a resurrection and so Octane was eliminated.

“There are two left, félagi fighters, fight strong.” Bloodhound’s voice sounded over the sound system.

“Great. One less to make a mess with.” Revenant huffed as the drone switch perspective and the cameras watched Revenant storm the shield up high as Caustic laid his gas out below. The Simulacrum slid into the shield and hailed bullets into Gibraltar before leaving a grenade inside and sliding from the roof into the room below.

“Toxic traps in position.” Caustic mused before he snorted, “Lifeline has Gibraltar back up, they haven’t taken the bait.”

“Urgh.” Revenant howled as he was sent back to the totem where Bloodhound was laid on the roof, “Back at the Totem! Caustic, move!”

“Lovely.” Caustic cursed but dropped a gas cloud as he headed towards Bloodhound.

Bloodhound made no noise as they took a shot and watched Lifeline go down, “Move! They are weak.” The other two turned heel to finish the match and the crowd jeered as they won the title of champions.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it would have gone differently if Bloodhound was on the other side.

“Artur, you cannot come in, you know this.” Bloodhound said from the door, their voice hushed as they held their arm outside, “Come now, do not cause me any more problems.” They cooed softly.

“Bloodhound?” You asked gently, “You’re here late?” You questioned as their goggles looked at you, “Who is Artur?”

Bloodhound carefully pulled their arm inside and showed you the Raven. It was perched on his arm and squawked curiously as its beady black eye analysed you, “Artur is my companion and friend.” Bloodhound stroked their finger over the soft feathers of the Raven’s chest, “Do you allow animals in. I’m afraid he does not want to stay outdoors…I believe he can smell the rain.”

“Sure…so long as he doesn’t shit on my floor, he can come in.” You smiled as Bloodhound ducked inside, the beads on their hat clicking as they entered and headed towards the bar with graceful long strides.

“I came to apologise for Revenant’s behaviour. The Simulacrum knows nothing else than the slátra… ah that is… he only knows killing.” Bloodhound sat and let Artur rest on their shoulder, “I know he left a mess, and you were paid for it out of his winnings. I hope that brings you some joy.”

The tracker shifted in their seat as Artur hopped from their shoulder, over the heavy material and leather on their arms before the Raven jumped along the bar, squawking curiously into an empty pint glass.

You watched the bird before smiling and collecting the rest of the glasses from the top, “It felt like a kick in the teeth. No one cared about me, just that I kept quiet about it.” You shrugged your shoulders, “Hey, at least Revenant likes what I did with the place now, huh?” It was a sour joke.

Bloodhound looked at you curiously before their goggles shifted a little with their head, looking at the drinks and liquor behind you, “What he thinks is of little importance.” They stated before a gloved hand pointed at the drinks, “Do you have Brennivín? It is not common.”

Shocked, you stumbled for a moment before turning back to the cabinet. You hadn’t heard of the drink until a rogue group of Outlanders came through some years ago, “Brennivín…” You hummed before you snatched the clear liquid from the shelf, holding up the harsh green label for Bloodhound to see, “It’s a dill flavoured drink, right?”

“Ah. It has been some time since I have seen it.” Bloodhound happily took the bottle from you with careful hands, spinning the glass bottle to look at the back with a small huffy laugh, “The Black Death.” They purred, seemingly happy before they passed it back, “May I have some? A chilled glass will be sufficient. It is best chilled in the snow outside, but we are far from the snow here.”

“I didn’t think you would ah…want a drink.” You confessed as you took an iced glass from the fridge and turned it up on the bar before pouring a generous shot. Bloodhound reached for their pouch, but you held up your hand, “Its on me. Think of it as a thank you for dealing with Revenant.” You smiled and Bloodhound nodded before holding the drink close.

They made no move to drink.

“Wait how are you going to…” You trailed off as they span their finger around in a silent command for you to turn around. You turned around awkwardly in embarrassment and waited, the urge to peer back strong as the respirator hissed with air and they coughed quietly.

“You may turn around.” Bloodhound’s voice was infinitely softer without the mask and you smiled at the exposed mouth and chin.

They were pale and scarred with faint, harsh lines over the lower half of their face, but they gave a half smirk at your look before taking a careful sip of the alcohol.

Bloodhound gave a small hiss before they shook their head and chuckled again, “That is strong. Good.” They gestured to their chest, “Heart-warming.”

“Heart-warming is one word for it.” You held up the label again, “It’s sixty percent proof. I think I got it off some weird Outlands dealer.” With a shrug you placed the bottle back into the cabinet.

Bloodhound took another burning sip and looked at Artur as the Raven hopped back towards him from the glass, he had been entertaining himself with, “Artur. Do you want one too?” The tracker teased, “Can Artur have some water. We have travelled quite far.”

“Oh, sure.” You turned and then whipped back around, “Can he drink out of a bowl?”

“A bowl will be fine, but he may throw water all over your bar.” Bloodhound nodded as you filled a shallow bowl and leaned back as Artur hopped over, dunking his beak into the water to have a drink before he shook side to side and cawed loudly. Bloodhound offered the bird their arm and watched Artur walk back up their arm before taking another sip of Brennivín.

A comfortable silence covered the both of you as you worked through your clean up routine in the empty bar, putting the empty glasses into the back room to be cleaned by the steamer bot you had installed. The robot chugged to life happily, almost like a MRVIN, before setting to work putting glasses into its stomach for washing before organising the others into stacks for the second cycle.

Bloodhound was sat with their respirator back on when you returned, stroking Artur’s soft black feathers underneath the bird’s chin. Artur cooed happily before jumping back to Bloodhound’s shoulder and regarding you with one beady black eye.

“Thank you for the drink.” Their voice was muffled and lower through the respirator once again.

“You’re welcome.” You uttered as they stood.

Bloodhound adjusted their hat before looking around again, taking in the bar one last time before they headed to the door, “Farewell, krúttið mitt.”

Before you could ask them what exactly it meant they were gone, the metal door closing with a thump behind them. You followed to the door and clicked the old school and new technology lock into place, making sure that the door didn’t open before you turned the lights off and went to check in on your dishwashing companion, curious as to just why an Apex Legend had taken it upon themselves to come and check on you.

You watched the games for the coming weeks of the season with an interest in the two Legends that had entered your bar. Revenant and Bloodhound were machines on the field, but often grew too invested in their own kills, which lead to their failure. Bloodhound was less likely to be so focused on one person, but recently with Revenant’s goading, they were easily thrown off in favour of hunting one team for an entire match. Neither of them had a solid win for the rest of the season, they were mostly luck wins where they downed injured teams. You wondered what was wrong with them but tried not to pay much attention as your regular life settled back into place. The bar was busy on match days, and you laughed as new customers became regulars, and learned who liked what drink along with which Legend they loved as well.

“Who are you rooting for today?” Kennedy asked as he sipped his beer, “Your preference for that bot is slightly disturbing.” He laughed.

“Bloodhound is up with Mirage and Wattson today.” You hummed, “Revenant is with Octane and Lifeline. I think Bloodhound has the better option.” You laughed before the games started, wondering just who you should really be rooting for.


	2. Chapter 2: A Totem to Remember (Revenant's Ending)

Loba’s debut seemed to attract more customers than you were ready to deal with. On the night of the test match, you had to refresh the beer kegs twice and you were almost out of a brand of whiskey known as the Red Devil. It was annoying, but you knew you had to refresh stock as you stacked freshly cleaned glasses back under the bar for the next day. Your bot in the back chimed happily as he opened his great washer stomach and offered you another tray of red hot, freshly cleaned glasses.

“Thanks buddy.” You cooed at the robot before taking the tray and patting his head with one hand. Spinning back around, you headed back out into the bar and hummed to yourself as you started moving towards the cabinet of tumblers. You held the tray on your hip as you plucked open the cabinet before carefully putting the glasses into their correct places, in order of size and shape. Mindlessly, your fingers moved on muscle memory as your little washer buddy moved to plug himself back in for the night, waving before he powered down and his battery began to charge. You patted him softly as you placed the tray away for him and turned to lock the kitchen for the night.

The lights flickered. You looked at the ceiling before a gravelly voice spoke above you.

“You’re oblivious, skinbag.” Revenant purred from the ceiling.

You looked up and realised his face was close to your own, his arms extended, and his legs pinned into the metal of the ceiling. His body contorted monstrously before his head twisted and he dropped from the ceiling with a soft thump.

“What the hell are you doing on my ceiling, Revenant?” You tried to keep calm, but you were quick to fly into fury with the Simulacrum, “You don’t get to just waltz in here after…”

“You don’t get to waltz in here after what you’ve done.” He mimicked back at you with his hand snapping in your face, “Tell me something I haven’t heard before.” Revenant drawled as he looked at the whiskey behind you. He pointed a sharp finger at it, “Give me that.”

“Uh, no.” You gave an exasperated huff and snatched the liquor, “I suggest you pay for it first, plus, we’re closed.”

“I think you’re forgetting just how much money I’ve given you already, squishy.” Revenant purred, “I gave you a thousand credits last time I was here, that pays for more than seven of those whiskey bottles, I know they’re not that expensive.”

With another hum, his metal fingers reached for a glass, snatching it before you could rescue that from him too.

“Okay. I don’t think you understand that you literally killed a man in my bar, and that your hush money doesn’t just sweep that under the rug.” You pointed a finger in his face angrily, “You pay, or you get out.”

The threat made him laugh. Revenant threw back his head and laughed a deep metallic noise, his mouth opening slightly to reveal the sparking copper inside of his mouth, “I like you. Not just anyone gets away with pointing a finger in my face.” He purred but his hand snapped up and grabbed hold of your wrist. Slowly, his cold sharp fingers crawled down your arm before they grabbed hold of your fingers and pushed, “But point it at me again and I’ll take the nail and skin off and pin your eyes open to watch.”

“This is not the way to get a free drink.” You uttered, in shock at the severity of his threat.

Revenant hummed again before his electronics whirred and he released your hand back to you, “Sure. You’re something odd, skinbag. Get me that drink, I need something to do.” It wasn’t polite nor happy, but you relented and opened the cabinet to retrieve his drink. The expensive liquor was strong, and you turned back around with it in your hand before undoing the screw cap and pouring it into an icy tumbler.

Revenant eased himself into the bar stool, ignoring your disgruntled look as he took the tumbler and admired the dark colour of the whiskey. He swirled the liquid for a while before taking a small amount into his mouth and swallowing, his neck jarring with the pumps before he gave a small hiss.

“Nice burn.” He commented as he slumped over the bar and looked at the clock on the wall, hardly fazed by the lateness of his visit or how inconvenient he was being to you, “I see you’ve been making a killing with the games broadcasts.”

You didn’t know whether he was being genuine, “Well…I guess that money came in handy.” You shot back at him, “Blood money seems to have made my business flourish.”

“Sometimes money buys happiness.” Revenant drawled, “I got plenty of it. Just ask.”

“I don’t want your money.” You scoffed, “I’ve had plenty of that already.”

Revenant growled, “Then just what do you want from me?!” His fingers rapped along the bar top.

“If you didn’t get it, Revenant, I want you to get out and leave me alone!” You shouted.

The Simulacrum watched you, his black and orange eyes bright before the orange went small and he snatched his drink back off the bar. He lifted it to the separation in his face where the skull like white met red and opened the hinge to dump the rest of the alcohol inside. Before you could snatch the expensive bottle away from him, he had it in his hand. Revenant said nothing to you as he held the bottle by his leg, his long arm popping upwards with a shrugging readjustment before he whipped around and headed to the door, stalking on long legs. He didn’t glance back as he stormed away, slamming the door behind him with a grunt before disappearing beyond the bright LEDs of the streetlamps and into the night. You looked at the bar and scoffed at the scratch marks down the wood, running your finger over them before you locked the door and shut off the lights to head up to your room above the bar for some well-earned rest.

Revenant didn’t show up for the next few days. You were glad for the peace again as you ran through your normal daily routine, until it came to cleaning day for you little dishwasher friend. The robot unit chirped happily as you slapped at his dishwashing compartment and watched it open, the cogs and pistons whirring as the racks and doors stretched to their full capacity. Carefully you took a spanner and went to carefully unscrew the back of the water pipes from his back and laid them over the counter and into the sink to avoid any gross water dripping through onto the floor. The pipes smelled. You coughed as you reached for the cleaning fluid and whistled gently as you opened the back of the washing compartment to expose the hose outlets. The robot chimed a whistle as you poured the cleaner inside his belly and started scrubbing, whistling back softly as the suds started to foam up.

“You love cleaning time huh buddy?” You asked.

The robot chirped with a smiley face appearing on the screen which acted as its face.

“Hey, I know, I won’t be too long!” You promised as you took a wire wool to a particularly rough spot of dried grease. You continued to hum as you worked and poured the cleaning fluid down the water pipes to clean them.

“Okay buddy, lets get these back attached to you.” The washing bot chirped and span for you again as you held his water pipes up and reached for your spanner to crank the bolts back into place.

“And…” You cranked the bolt one last time, settling it in place tightly, “There!” You declared, “Right, go and set yourself for a full rinse and you should feel like brand new!”

The robot chirped and tugged himself into the corner again before starting his cycle. A happy face trundled across his screen as he started the timer for his cycle and plugged himself back into to the charging point to continue the wash in sleep mode.

“See you in a bit buddy.” You patted his washing compartment and headed back into the bar, wiping your hands on a towel before you looked at the empty place and the bright sunshine outside. You weren’t open just yet. It was too early for serving and you felt tiredness seep into your eyes as you looked for the coffee machine. It was usually only used for Expresso Martinis. It needed water and you took the coffee jar and filled it before pouring it into the machine and looking through just what you fancied to drink. If anything had come out of the war, it was the new, expansive range of hot drinks. Tea from far off planets you had never heard of. You plucked free one box with a curious looking fruit on the front before taking the strainer and filling it with the leaves and letting the hot water drip through into the large pot.

As you watched the water drip, you heard a noise above you. The clink of metal. The barest noise of a scrape of metal over plaster. Slowly, you peered upwards. Nothing. The ceiling was its normal, usual painted colour, the metal support beams poking out of the plaster. You frowned but looked back at your tea. There was another noise. Metal scraping over each other. The noise was coming from behind the closed door to the kitchen. You left the tea unattended and reached for the door handle, pressing the pad to open it with a whirr of mechanical locks. It clunked open. Nothing. Your washing robot chirped at you in confusion his screen flashing with a question mark across his face before you smiled, trying to ease his nerves.

“Hey, don’t panic. I just thought I heard something…” You trailed off as you looked past your washing robot and into the room. Nothing was out of place.

It was then that your washing bot gave a strangled beep and danced away from where he was attached to the wall, pulling the water pipes tight as he beeped in upset.

“Pah.” A silver clawed hand retracted up back on top of the fridge after taking a rude swipe at your friend, “Stupid tin-can.” Revenant hissed from the giant chrome refrigerator, flashing his claws back at the robot once more.

“How the fuck did you even get in here?” You asked as you looked up at the Simulacrum, “I told you not to come back.”

Revenant’s body contorted on the top of the fridge, his head twisting to the side as his orange eyes span and swirled in the shadows, “I know.” He rumbled, “I…” He went silent as his pistons clicked and he slid over the top of the furniture and down onto the floor with a click and a hiss.

“You what? You needed another bottle of whiskey?” You challenged.

Revenant stood to his full height, looming over you, the joints of his fingers clicking before he gave a grunt, “Something like that.” He rumbled as he looked down at you before he looked back at your washing bot and flexed his shoulders, “I didn’t know you had company.”

Suddenly, that tension was gone, and Revenant stepped past you to flash his hand at the other robot again. It was a threat perhaps, but your washing robot chirped unhappily again.

“Stupid bag of bolts.” Revenant grumbled at it.

“Hey.” You intervened, “Leave him alone. He’s just a washing bot.” You grabbed Revenant’s arm.

It was like the Simulacrum froze in time, his eyes glaring down at the place where your fingers wrapped around the metal. With a snort, Revenant tugged his arm free from your grip.

“It’s just a washing bot, like you said.” Revenant stalked from the kitchen, his mechanical legs thumping softly as he went. As he left you made sure your friend was safe. Beyond a small nick at the base of his neck he was fine. You nudged him back into his power station to continue his cycles in sleep mode.

You followed Revenant into the bar to see him picking through your cabinet again, his metal fingers tapping along the labels of the liquors as he decided back to pluck from your reserves.

“What happened to the rest of that posh stuff?” Revenant asked with a hum as he looked through the back of the cabinet.

“You had the last bottle. The supplier hasn’t been in a while.” You watched him look back before he selected another expensive looking bottle. This time it was tequila. You didn’t say anything as he took it out and eyed the label before disappearing into the corner of your bar, slinking into the booth farthest away from you in silence. The Simulacrum didn’t glance back at you as he cracked open the bottle and placed the glass neck between his metal jaws before tipping his head back and emptying a good portion of the alcohol into his synthetic stomach. You watched with a small cringe as he seemed unfazed by the burning liquor. His orange eyes snapped to you as you watched him from the bar.

His gravelly voice carried well across the room, gracing your ears with the deeply pissed off timbre, “What are you looking at?” Revenant asked with a roll of his optics, “I’m not going to steal anything.” He rumbled.

You watched him for a moment before replying, “I’m more concerned why you want to be here.”

Revenant looked you dead in the eyes as his mechanical thumb stroked the label of the bottle, “Call it a whim, whatever. It’s quiet and there isn’t that annoying Andrade brat. Don’t go thinking anything different. You tell them where I am, and I’ll take great pleasure in making you squeal like the little meatsack you are.”

“You know. There’s no need to threaten me with a good time every time you come in here.” This was a new tactic, and you watched his optics twitch from his bottle to your face.

“Are you making fun of me, skinsuit?” Revenant growled, his two metal jaws parting slightly to reveal the sheen of copper in his mouth with an angry snarl.

“Hardly.” You scoffed, “Fine.” You relented as you headed for the light switch, “Stay here, but I’m going to bed. Enjoy your pity party.” With a snap of the lights, you walked back into the kitchen and to the back staircase to your own apartment. You made sure to lock the door firmly before stripping off for a shower and heading to bed.

Revenant peered into the darkness with a hum, his fingers tapping along the table before he tugged the bottle of liquor closer and snapped on the holoscreen in the corner, searching for something to fill the noise in the dark bar with outside of his own memories playing over and over again behind his eyes.

“Skinsuit.” There was a grunt before the bed shook and dipped either side of your body, “Skinsuit!”

With a jolt you woke up, just to come face to face with the skull-head of Revenant and a sneer.

“Finally. I thought I was going to have to choke you awake.” Revenant grumbled as he peered over you, his legs splayed like a spider either side of you as he looked down at you tucked into the covers. His hands pulled back from either side of your head and you watched him flash his claws as he sat back, still perched over your legs, looming like a deranged killer.

“Do I need to ask why you’re up in my room?” You asked groggily, wiping sleep from your eyes as Revenant watched you sit up with great interest. The Simulacrum purred, a low rumbling from somewhere in his throat, as you met him face to face, glaring at his orange and black eyes.

“Your little washing bot is screaming downstairs. It sounds horrendous.” Revenant didn’t move away, his skeletal nose rushing with air as he inhaled the smell of you.

“If you did something Revenant…”

“You’ll what? You’ll kill me?” He wheezed a great laugh as his claws dragged at your sheets, “Good luck with that, skinsuit. There’s millions of bodies just waiting for me to be reuploaded into them.” He snarled before rasping again as his arms and legs whirred into downwards positions, allowing him to snap, flip and crawl off your bed in one, bizarrely fluid motion before he clicked back into place and stood over the side of your bed with another, odd, calculating rumble. 

You decided to ignore his snide remark and bitter tone, “Is he malfunctioning?” You asked as you threw back the covers and climbed out of bed to face the Simulacrum. He was intimidating at nearly seven feet tall but slim and streamlined with the ability to move silently at will despite being made from entirely heavy bulletproof metal. He looked down at you, his metal lips parted, unimpressed with your pyjamas covered in small Nesse prints.

“Not a clue.” His orange eyes looked you up and down before he strolled over to look through your desk.

“Hey, asshole.” You snapped at him as he tugged a thick looking document from a fat wad of paper, “No one invited you to look through my things.”

Revenant chuckled, “No. They didn’t…” He pulled open one of the drawers underneath him and hummed at the pens and random assortments of stationary in there, “A penis pen.” He held the phallic pen between his fingers, “Practical.”

You ignored his taunting swaying of the pen back and forth and hastened down the stairs towards the sound of your screaming washing bot. As you opened the door to the bar kitchen you ducked as a pot came flying towards your head. It clattered against the wall and smashed into several pieces. You avoided the shards as you pushed into the kitchen and saw the pipes spraying water down onto the floor and the robot trying to slam his front closed.

“Oh my…” You didn’t finish your sentence as he caught sight of you and screamed again, the screen in his stomach covered with crying faces as he rushed towards you, holding the severed and burst pipes in one hand and his drawer closed with the other. He screeched again waving the dripping pipes in front of you before shrinking behind your form, ducking as low as it could get as Revenant filled the entrance way into the kitchen.

His raspy laugh made you scowl. Revenant slinked in through the doorway and set about scratching his claws along the tiles, making a noise that was so ear grating you had to clench your teeth.

“I didn’t expect for him to piss all over your floor, I’ll admit.” The Simulacrum laughed, harshly and entirely mean.

“I knew you had something to do with this!” You pointed a finger in his face, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?! Why do you have to insist on being foul for a reaction?” Your anger seethed out of you as you hid your little robot behind you.

Revenant sneered, “You’re no fun, skinsuit.” He snarled before he snagged the pipes from your robot’s hands and grabbed the mechanical washing bot along the floor, kicking and screaming. His claws crunched into the metal of the washer bot’s shoulder as he pulled it towards the wall it had previously been stationed at. It wiggled violently before Revenant heaved it up and held the pipes up before driving them together with a metallic thunk. The connectors clicked back together easily, and the washing robot beeped confusedly as Revenant stood him against the wall and banged on the front of his tummy, slamming the door closed with a vicious thump of his metal palm. The door remained closed and the washing robot chirped in confusion.

You looked at the floor and then back to Revenant as he trudged back through the puddles of water and loomed over you again. He gave a long, low, robotic chuckle as he spun his hand and curled the claws towards his palm.

“I fixed your issue.” He stated with a look at his claws before he snapped them into a spike and made sure to push you back against the door, “Your welcome, skinsuit.”

You felt anger boil in your gut, “What? Do you want me to thank you or something?” You spat as you looked up at the unnatural orange optics. They span, the robotic pupils clicking as he focused on your face and the anger that painted your expression.

Revenant’s fingers curled into the wall, “Something like that.” He whispered as he stared at the anger on your face, “I didn’t do this, before you blame me.” With a scoff, he released you from the wall and sauntered through the puddles of water towards the back door, “Nice seeing you…” He turned to look at you, his headscarf rippling in the breeze, “You look nice when you sleep.”

“FREAK!” You screamed after him as he disappeared up the smooth concrete wall and over the next building with a hiss of pistons.

Your washing bot chirped sadly and held out his hands to you with a shake. You looked and spotted the spanner in his hands as he sheepishly rubbed his washing compartment.

“Well. At least I don’t have to bill him for this as well…but maybe I will to spite the bastard.” You considered as you carefully took a towel to your friend and then grumbled, wading across the kitchen to find the mop to get rid of the rest of the puddles.

Revenant seemed to lurk in the corners of your vision after that, always sat in the back of the bar, with some bottle of hard liquor and a deadly, judgemental gaze turned on the rest of the patrons. Those who knew him from the Apex Games did not dare approach him. He took great pleasure in launching a young man over the table once from a handshake, laughing as he stalked over to him and signed his name on the boy’s cheek in his own blood. You had promptly doubled his price for drinks that night, but the Simulacrum did not complain, he paid at closing and disappeared into the night. Sometimes he lurked after closing time. More often than not, you found him glaring down at your washing bot as the robot thrust a mop at him to try and get him off the cupboards or fridges. Angry beeps were then met with your angry glares. For some reason, Revenant adored the look. Anger furrowing your brows and a snarl on your lips made him feel smug, almost joyful. He was positively gleeful when he was tormenting you.

However, the bar was shut for the workers day, a holiday for most of the city, and Revenant was left without his normal activities to entertain himself. He stalked around his room for a while, jumping and reaching for items he had hung from his ceiling as exercise before he looked at the charging port and bed. There was nothing else in his room. A spare scarf was hung in the wardrobe along with the scraps of a suit he had taken great pleasure in peeling apart in front of the other legends before a conference. With a huff he opened the ventilation shaft and rotated his spinal column before his shoulders snapped and tucked in close underneath his arms, allowing for him to fit into the vent and scuttle along to the next room. Noxious fumes made him pause, but with another slow filtration of air he scoffed and opened the grate on the other side.

“Mercury won’t rot my insides, Nox.” His head turned one hundred and eighty degrees before his body followed in a contortion of metal, spilling out and rotating on top of Alexander’s glassware cabinet.

Caustic looked at him with vicious cold green eyes, “I’ve yet to find anything but charged copper dispersals that will have an effect.” He uttered softly, clinical and effective as he opened his filtration systems and watched the mercury vapours swirl away into the chambers above, “Why are you bothering me, Simulacrum?”

Revenant lowered his head over the side of the cabinet, “I smelt rotten eggs. Sulfur. But maybe you just passed gas.” He jeered as he watched Caustic cork the rest of the reaction and pull another yet of heavy metals from a rack alongside various acids.

“Maybe hydrofluoric acid will make you quieter?” Caustic hissed, “I’m working.”

“I know.” Revenant hummed from the cabinet, “But you’re not that busy.” He dragged his claws over the top of the metal with a laugh.

Caustic closed the arm opening of his experimental chamber with a slam as he peeled free his gloves in order to point a scarred finger at the Simulacrum, “You never come in here unless you’re bored.” He observed as he removed his goggles and respirator, “And that isn’t often…Not after you found that little toy to play with. Did Bloodhound not warn you off enough with that slice to your oil recycler?”

Revenant growled from the cabinet as he leaned over the top, leering at the Chemist underneath him, “It was fucking ugly bleeding shit down my legs but there’s always another body for me…Bloodhound didn’t heal to quickly from my blow I think.” He flashed his claws and hummed as he tucked himself back on the unit, far out of Caustic’s reach, “Besides. That feral brat doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“No but they might be inclined to give you another cut for harassing a…what do you call them…skinsuit?” Alexander’s eyes lit up with silent glee as he watched Revenant click and adjust on top of his glassware cabinet.

“Carry on old man and I’ll show you just what I did to Bloodhound.” Revenant hissed as he laid over the top, his metal legs hanging down over Caustic’s head.

Caustic binned his gloves and hung his goggles after washing them before he turned on the air conditioning and moved back towards his desk, “I have no desire to taste steel today. So,” He span in his chair, his rectangle frame glasses perched on the end of his nose, “Are you going to tell me what you’re here for? Evidently your little toy isn’t around to entertain you today.”

Revenant propped his head up on his arm, tapping a claw against the metal beneath his eye before he rumbled, “Its…boring.” With a small sigh he looked down at Caustic, “I didn’t think I could feel but its exciting to watch them, like a little rat running around. A little angry rat.”

Alexander was turned back to his desk, working over something before he replied, “You might be an illegally made conscious robot but you will still carry humanity…even if your programming was once to kill.” He shrugged up at the robot, “Perhaps you are having a mild fascination? Infatuation if you will. I can’t say I have felt it myself… The idea of such intimacy disgusts me, but perhaps you are more human than you originally thought?” Glee laced Caustic’s tone as he smirked up at Revenant.

Anger churned in Revenant’s processors, “Human am I.” He slipped from the cabinet and slid in one movement, grabbing for Caustic’s throat.

His fingers were cold, but Caustic let him grapple from the chair. The Chemist was far shorter than him but was large, bulky and strong despite his love for poisonous gases.

“Did I hit a nerve?” He asked with a laugh and a wheeze which was followed by a cough.

Revenant looked down at him, orange eyes swirling before he leaned close to Caustic’s face, “Compare me to you soft bellied sacks of skin again and I’ll slice you from groin to neck just for the fun of it…Then maybe I’ll show your little apprentice what you look like.”

“I dare you to try Simulacrum.” Caustic whispered before he pried the robotic hand off his throat and sat back down in his chair, slicking his hair back with a huff, “Why not just ask to see them?” 

“Pah.” Revenant’s joints clicked as he climbed back onto the cabinet, “Like I want to see them.” He hissed, “They do nothing but tell me to leave.”

“Have you considered that is because you are foul?!” Caustic shouted as he leaned back to see Revenant disappear back into the vent, “Idiotic fool.” He cursed softly before erasing the measurements for the next reactions he had planned.

Days suddenly past without Revenant in the corner of the bar. Your washing buddy seemed quiet and contemplative without having to beat him off the countertops, and you found yourself slowly relaxing until it was concerning. The Simulacrum was never gone for long. It was a week since before you knew it and you knew they were still in the downtime between seasons. He had no reason for being gone. You caught yourself one night as you worried about where he had gotten to.

“Probably finally got what was coming to him for that big mouth.” You whispered as you took the cleaned glasses from your robot and began to place them away.

The door opened with a creak and you huffed, “We’re closed!” You shouted over your shoulder, “I swore I turned the sign around…”

There was no one in the bar. You scowled as you opened the bar door and walked towards the entrance where the door was propped open an inch or so, letting the warm air into the bar.

“Hello?” You asked quietly as you opened the door and peered outside.

“Skinsuit.” Revenant hummed from above you.

You peered upwards and felt a sense of relief wash over you as you gazed into the orange eyes of the sour looking Simulacrum above you. His head turned, much like a bird, as he regarded you.

“You’ve been gone a while.” You commented idly as you stood outside the door. Your foot hit the pavement and the Simulacrum held up one silver finger.

He pointed down at your foot, “I think you just stood on something.”

You jumped when cardboard crumpled and something rattled around in the box, sending it shooting towards the taxi rails. With a rush you grabbed for the box and frowned at the largeness of it.

“Why did you get me an animal?” You asked as you heaved the box to the front door, eyeing the air holes stamped in the side.

“Call it an investment.” He grunted as he dropped from your roof and stood behind you, watching with eager eyes as you carefully opened the lid.

A growl sounded from within and you jumped back at the sight of the small Prowler cub pacing back and forth in the box.

“REVENANT, WHAT THE FUCK?!” You screeched as the Prowler cub scrambled from the box and hissed, flaring the bare bones of its frills at you, trying to appear intimidating.

“No need to shout. You’ll scare the little guy.” Revenant insisted as he closed the door, “I found him is all. Thought you might like it. Kings Canyon…well its not great but if you head into the jungles of Leviathan there’s still some of these things that survived the purging of the planet.”

“How did you even find one?” You asked as the cub rushed underneath a table, quivering and hissing sadly, “They’re…endangered.”

“It was stuck in a pit. Probably game hunters. I nabbed it. Its weedy and pathetic looking so I thought you might like it.” He shrugged, “I can’t keep animals in the tower so he’s yours.”

You stood silently for a moment, trying to figure out just what the gift meant. That Revenant trusted you? That he thought about you? You didn’t know what to make of it.

“Are you going to pay for the food?” You asked with a smirk aimed at the Simulacrum stood over you.

The seven-foot robot gave a single, dry laugh before he held up a large bag, “Way ahead of you, skinsuit.” He reached in and pulled out a heavy looking metal dish, “Don’t give me that look.” He gestured to your face, “So happy, doing that thing with your little beady eyes. Its revolting.” With a scoff he pushed past you and headed towards the cowering cub before plucking it from the floor, ignoring the black teeth snapping at him as he pulled at its frill and admired the deep blue and orange colours along his back.

“Hey.” You cautiously approached, “Put him back on the floor, I have a good idea on how to win him over.” You gestured to Revenant who rolled his eyes but dropped the cub with a huff and grabbed a bottle of liquor to watch from the bar as you took off your sweater and gently eased it under the table.

The Prowler ignored you, mouth agape and dark under its neck. Next you took the food bowel and pulled out the food Revenant had gathered. A small amount of cubed beef was enough, and you placed it in his bowl before filling the other and leaving for the bar.

“Really? That’s it?” He droned, “How boring. I thought you might wrestle it and get eaten alive.” He trailed his fingers over the wood, “Now what?”

“We leave him alone. He needs to settle in. Its all new and traumatic.” You insisted as the cub took a sniff of your sweater and laid in the mass with a sad whimper.

“How dull…Maybe he’ll chew through a pipe in the night.” Revenant wondered as he tipped his head back and poured some liquor into his mouth.

“Hopefully not…but thank you. I didn’t think you were capable of being nice.” You whispered as you watched the Prowler bed himself down.

“Don’t get used to it.” Revenant snapped, but without as much of his usual bite, “It might come back to bite you.”

“Well, it very well might. Look at his teeth.” You joked, for once feeling at ease with the murderous robot in the room.

Revenant only gave another series of dry laughs.

“Demonio.” You cooed at the small cub as he attacked a hunk of meat with talons and teeth. It chewed on its back teeth before its ears pricked behind the frill around his neck.

“Demonio.” You cooed once again and the Prowler looked at you with a grumbling chirp, licking the blood from around its mouth as it eyed the small, marrow filled bone in your palm, “Come on boy.” You wiggled the bone back and forth as the orange eyes tracked your hand along its course.

“Do you like making fun of me?” Revenant grumbled from his seat at the edge of the bar, “That damn brat is the only one who calls me that.” He hissed.

Demonio eyed the bone before he got to his feet and prowled over before licking at your fingers. He took a nip before waiting for the bone.

“Good boy.” You reached with your other hand and touched his frill, gently running your hand down his nose before you gave him the bone and stood up to head back to Revenant.

“He seems fonder of you.” Revenant observed with a hum, “Almost like a soft little dog.” He spat at the cub, “How delightfully boring.”

“Maybe, but I appreciate not being bitten by him anymore.” You answered as you looked back at the Prowler. He was already growing, and you were more than happy to look after him, but he was going to get large, “Even if he might outgrow me one day…well and maybe try to eat me at any moment.” You huffed.

Revenant snorted, “Ha. Maybe he will, but I’m sure Predators are less inclined to eat people they like.”

You looked at the Simulacrum, “Is that why I’m still alive?” It was barely a whisper, “Because you like making my life miserable?”

Revenant looked taken aback, his orange eyes turning into pinpoints as he considered his next words, “Miserable…No.” His metal jaws clicked, “You’re the only person that can make me laugh.”

Those words were heavy, and you watched him struggle for a moment with himself, “I don’t understand anything. I was programmed to kill for…I don’t know. A long time. This is new for me and I have hated every second of feeling more than I did being nothing but a slaughter machine.” He growled.

“You should call me by my name then.” You smiled as you said it for him, and the Simulacrum nodded once before repeating it back to you and turning to watch Demonio gnaw on his bone.

“Oh,” Revenant looked back at you and you poured him another drink, “For the record, I like you as well Revenant.” You smiled as you sat down next to him and watched Demonio work on his bone a little longer.

“Demonio!” You rushed after the Prowler as he launched himself at a customer. He was now a juvenile, and the hound like beast was quick to dislike anyone that touched you over the bar. You kept him behind the bar, but the creature was quick to jump at people that took hold of you. Revenant laughed from the end of the bar, tucked in the shadows of the wall as he ran his claws back and forth over the bar, “He knows people shouldn’t touch what isn’t there’s.” The Simulacrum sneered as the patron whipped around to look at him.

“Oh yeah, you metal fucker? What are you saying?”

“That your disgusting little skin sack hands don’t deserve to be near ‘em.” Revenant’s fingers snapped together, the fusion metal slamming together as he raised himself over the bar, spun and stuck up against the ceiling over the man, “Maybe I’ll take more than your hand like the hound would.” He ran the sharp spear of his hand down the man’s cheek, “I think your innards would make a lovely adornment to my mantle.”

“Revenant.” You tugged the hand away, “Enough.” You hissed at him, “Sir, I’m sorry for the drama…”

“Save it. I’m out of here.” He shoved his drink over the side and rushed to the door, “Bunch of fucking weirdos.” He snarled as he left.

The night drew to a close and Revenant spent the rest of the opening hours sulking in the back of the bar, alone on a table, with his feet propped up on the metal, his drink untouched as he watched the patrons with a vicious glare.

“Revenant.” You uttered as Demonio pattered along behind you, his frill flared as he dragged his tug rope for play time, “Are we going to talk about what happened, or are you going to sulk forever?” You asked as you sat across from him, pushing his feet to the side in order to see his gaunt metal face.

The Simulacrum snorted, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, there is.” You huffed, “You threatened to kill a man tonight who grabbed hold of my hand.” You sat back as Demonio pushed his head into your lap and you rubbed the scaley skin around his ears.

“Is there? I wasn’t aware that it was a problem.” Revenant moved his feet from the table, “He was an asshole. I won’t apologise for my actions.”

“I’m not…”

“And I sure as hell won’t be giving you money for his drinks..”

“Will you shut up and listen?” You snapped.

Revenant felt anger threaten to spill over, but he slumped back in his seat as you pushed your finger down against the wood and scowled. He watched you with a huff.

“You’re lashing out and I want to know why.” You demanded, “From day one you were horrible. A cruel and mean machine that wanted nothing but to inconvenience me every day, but now you’re…giving me gifts. You’re here constantly and you just…You stopped me from getting a very horrible string of abuse. So, explain this to me, because I’m at a loss.”

Revenant was silent. His chassis was still and his wiring and pistons clunked as though he was being jolted back to life. He opened his hand on the table and dared to reach for one of your own. Smooth, cold metal fingers grazed your fingertips before they gingerly moved up and over your palm to stroke the soft skin. His orange eyes watched the pulse in your wrist before he linked the fingers once, squeezing tightly before he moved away again and guarded himself, crossing his arms out of your reach.

“I…” He paused again, “I care for you.” That was it, he was silent again, his eyes watching you as you took in the meaning of the words he had dared to utter.

“Care for me?” You whispered back at him.

Anger laced him once again, “Yes, you stupid skinsuit! I might even feel something like love or joy!” He hollered as he flashed his claws and scraped them against one another, “Its infuriating and…And it hurts!” He threw his hand at the wall, “It hurts because I know I’m nothing but a giant killing machine! I’m stained in so much blood I could swim in it and nothing can ever make you love a disgusting creature like me!” Revenant heaved, almost like a human, his spinal column lurching as he screamed in frustration again and moved to stand up.

Like a viper, you grabbed at his hand and tugged, hard enough to jolt his fingers, but he was unfazed. He towered over you and watched, looking down at you with lonely eyes as his fingers dared, once again, to wrap around your own, seeking the heat they no longer possessed. He uttered your name, once, softly, as though he wasn’t allowed to say it, and then he looked you in the eyes.

“That week you didn’t show up was like torture.” You said carefully, “For the first time, I was actually worried about you. It was then that I realised I liked having you around. Everything you did it was not to piss me off… well it was, but you haven’t had to speak or make friends with someone in so long, you just forgot how to do it anymore.” You felt your hand begin to shake in his, “But then the gifts started, and you thought about them. I said I wanted a dog one day, and well Demonio isn’t a dog but he’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever been given…So,” You smiled at him, “What I’m trying to say is that I think I might love you too.”

Revenant’s hand fell from your own and he looked to the wall for a moment before replying, “You really think you can love me?” He whispered, appearing small despite his towering height.

“Yes, I think I can.” You affirmed before leaning up to wrap your arms around him. The Simulacrum flinched before wrapping his thin, cold arms around you, taking in the warmth of the hug before pressing his face to your neck and humming at the gentle sensation of a kiss against his cheek.

“What was that for?” He asked quietly.

“Because I love you.” You whispered as you hugged him tighter.


	3. Chapter 3: The Star Goddess

Bloodhound had done well in the games recently. Keen eyes with even keener tactics had proven their worth countless times, in countless line-ups. They had a good number of wins under their belt and you assumed that meant lots of winnings. The customers had quickly become fans, and often you found them asking you about the mysterious champion and to put on the highlights for the latest match. You were always happy to put the highlights on for them when asked, and you enjoyed watching the expert tracking from Bloodhound on the screen. A few weeks of highlights made you wonder if Bloodhound would ever come back to your little bar in the outskirts of the city.

A chirp from over your shoulder paused you in your humming. The washing robot chirped again as you looked at it and watched the screen as it flashed with a winking emoji and a smirk before red text scrolled along the bottom.

‘WASHING COMPLETED!’

You smiled and nodded, “Okay buddy.” You patted his front, “Did you manage to put them all away?” You asked.

The robot chirped with a nod, his green optics flashing before he held out a tub of the shot glasses for you to take.

“I’ll put them away, no problem. Thank you.” You took the box with a smile and moved back towards the cabinet to put all the freshly washed glasses back in their proper homes. You blew dust from the shelves and tutted before taking a duster and wiping the shelves down with quick strokes towards you, removing the thin layer of dust over the wood. It was much tidier with a dusting. After placing the duster away you started putting away the glasses in their correct places.

You jumped when there was a knock at the front door. It was just before closing, but there wasn’t anyone in the bar, so you’d already gotten to cleaning up for the night. Another few knocks sounded against the metal and you placed the tub of glassware down before you headed over to the door and opened it a small amount.

A man stood in front of you, dressed in heavy pelts with a smile like a bears snarl. He gave a great laugh at you before pulling back his hood to reveal his bright white hair and beard, “It’s been long, krútt!” He raised his arms jovially before heaving his packs a little higher and pulling his hover-sledge a little.

“It has been a long, long time, Halldór.” You replied with a laugh as you let the traveller into the bar, “How has business been?” You asked as you helped him tuck his sledge in the corner by the door.

“Pah. What business?!” Halldór sneered as his icy eyes trained on the bar, “But you have had a makeover! Look you even have…what is name? Holovision!” He clapped his hands together before he tugged free his furs and hung them over the hooks by the door, “Did you get loan?”

“Nothing like that…” You shrugged, “Some asshole came in here and started…well…” You grumbled, “A man died in here and I got a lot of hush money.” The confession was like poison and bitter in your mouth and you unhooked the bar door before closing it and facing Halldór.

“Hush money. Not good to get involved with those sorts…even after the war.” He tutted in disappointment, “But, I suppose the money went to good use.” He didn’t ask anymore questions, and you were glad, for both of your sakes. You knew that the Games would not be too happy with more people knowing about the murder. It was best left in the past, and that was where you would rather it stay forever. Just the thought of Revenant’s orange gaze made you grimace.

Halldór sat himself at the bar and smiled, “Come, come. Let me tell you about the Outlands! There are new faces and new stories to be heard.”

“How about we get to that after you show me what insane drinks you’ve brought.” You laughed as you reached for some glasses and placed them in front of the Outlander.

Halldór scrubbed his hair back from his face and stood with a groan, hobbling tiredly, and dramatically, over to his sledge to take out items from the sacks laid across the metal structure. The sacks were large but Halldór reached into each of them in turn and pulled free a bottle of liquor from each, each of them wrapped tightly with brown paper and tied to stop them from breaking and spilling into the rest of his goods. He pulled all the brown paper free and revealed a brown bottle and two green taller bottles. They each had a hand made label and you looked at them before taking the brown one in hand and smiling at the label. Brennivín. You smiled at the label and turned it around for him to see.

“It has been a while since I’ve gotten hold of it.” Halldór chuckled as he squinted at the label, “That’s something strong right there.” He snorted, “I don’t think many customers would be after that.”

“Its more for a personal try.” You offered as you turned the bottle back to face him and hummed, “What kind of a price are you thinking of? I can give you a hundred for it.” You went in low, knowing you had room to bargain with the trader then.

Halldór snorted at your offer, “I want at least two hundred for it. It has come a long way you see.” He smirked at your scowl.

“One bottle for two hundred. No way. One fifty.” You retorted.

“Not even one hundred and sixty?” Halldór teased you.

“Nice try. Not a penny more for you.” You chastised as Halldór laughed at you. You reached for your credit purse and pulled out the chips for Halldór to take from the top. He slid you the bottle and you took it from the bar top with a smile. The green label was stark with a writing you were sure you could not read in large lettering above the translation.

“I have something else you might like.” Halldór smirked as he went back to retrieve something else from one of his large sacks. He pulled free a large jar full of meat and sauce.

“That looks like death.” You commented at you watched the pickling liquid swill left and right.

“No, no. It is pickled meats. Goes well with Brennivín.” He said as you took the jar from his grasp to look at the long strips of game in the juice.

“I feel like you’re lying to me, but I’ll take it.” You hummed as you eyed the gamey looking meat.

“For you, eighty credits.” Halldór smiled and you handed him the credits without much complaint, wondering if you could find someone to eat it if you didn’t like it.

Halldór tucked away all his goods before he sat down and slapped the bar with his palms, “Come then. Let us drink for a while, you can fill me in on what I have missed among the land of the living.”

You laughed at the merchant before you reached under the bar and plucked free a very suspicious looking rum, “Well you’ll be glad I got this then. I think it was made in some guys basement, but I know you like those sorts of drinks.”

Halldór laughed brightly, “You know me so well!” He threw his arms out with a guffaw and you laughed with him as you reached for the glasses and poured him a drink.

“To meeting old friend again!” Halldór cheered as he held his alcohol up. You clicked your glasses together and drank with each other late into the night, far past closing time.

The memory of that hang over made your eyes spin in your skull, a reminder of how tired you had felt the next day as you opened the bar for the night, eyes half closed despite the insane amount of water you had chugged. It was another busy night, some days after your exhaustion, and you were rushed off your feet trying to get out the insane amount of drinks to customers without any help. Thankfully, your washing robot was happy to step in and help you out with serving, though he was no good at pulling pints. You’d let him start pouring and watched as his tummy for washing smacked the handles over and caused beer to spill over the sides, splashing everywhere as the robot fussed and chirped in upset. Now he was happily handing out bottles and cans of drinks as you took care of the pints and other more delicate drinks which the robot could not handle. It went a lot easier with some help and you felt less rushed off your feet as the customers eventually ebbed to drinking and speaking with the occasional refill for the larger groups.

Closing time couldn’t come any sooner as you took in the last of the glasses and hooked your robot back up to the water to get on with the tidying. He chirped happily as the water started to churn in his systems and you laughed softly as he chirped a tune.

“Thanks for today buddy, you were a big help.” You cooed as you patted his shoulders and brushed off some dirt from him before you took your cloths and set to cleaning down the bar top and the tables

His screen flashed with a thumbs up emoji and you laughed again as the robot hummed to himself and happily set about working cleaning and stacking pots.

“That’s it, buddy. Too right.” You jokingly said as you headed back towards the tables on the back wall of the bar with the trigger bottle of disinfectant in your hand. The tables were particularly covered in beer and pieces of nuts. You grumbled at the mess, wiping away the sticky mess before you cleaned away the crumbs and sprayed it with disinfectant. The holoscreen played softly in the background announcing the end results of this season in the Apex Games. It was a rough season, but Bloodhound had finished with many wins under their belt, closely followed by Revenant. Neither was the winner overall, but you turned to watch the replays of intense moments and laughed at the knife in Revenant’s side as Bloodhound severed his coolant pumps and drove it three times up through his sternum, severing the rest of Revenant’s vitals before they laid the Simulacrum back and placed the gun over his chest with a nod of their head. The Simulacrum got what he deserved for trying to bait the hunter into fighting him.

The call of a Raven sounded from outside and your head shot up as you paused cleaning the tabletops to peer through the window as the Raven hopped along the window ledge and pecked at the glass harshly. Two hands appeared from behind the wall to grasp the bird by its body, tucking its wings close before the hunter appeared, clad in heavy fabric and goggles, their respirator fixed firmly in place. Bloodhound peered through the window, Artur tucked under their arm before they nodded their head in greeting and knocked on the door quietly with three solid raps of their knuckles. You turned towards the door and unlocked the mechanism before peering out with a smile.

“Hey stranger.” You smiled at Bloodhound.

Bloodhound let Artur go at the birds incessant nipping to their gloves and watched him hop up their shoulder before replying, “It has been some time.” They commented, “I hope you have faired well.”

“I’ve been fine! It’s been busy but with the season over its finally winding down a little bit.” You let Bloodhound in through the door, watching as Artur hopped across their shoulders before cawing loudly at your face, his beak snapping at your nose.

“Artur. That is rude.” Bloodhound reprimanded as they entered the bar, peering around the empty inside before they limped over to the bar and settled awkwardly on the seat, their foot perched on the stepping part of another stool.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You watched Bloodhound as you rounded the back of them and lifted the bar door before standing behind the top and watching them squirm in discomfort, however minimalistic the movements were.

“I am fine. A small injury in the ring.” Bloodhound brushed your concerns aside as they adjusted themself on the stool.

“Revenant got you in that tussle, didn’t he?” You asked as you reached into the back of the liquor cabinet for the new bottle of Brennivín. You turned back to Bloodhound with a smile as you offered the green bottle to them and placed it on top of the wood. Bloodhound gave a breathy chuckle as they took the bottle and looked at the handmade label.

“The Simulacrum got his recompense for daring to try.” Bloodhound observed softly as they ran their gloved fingers over the label and reached to undo the top, pulling the cork with a deft twist of their wrist before smelling the strong liquor, even through the respirator.

“Its strong. That’s for sure. I remember you saying something about cold glasses?” You reached under the bar and tugged out two glasses from the cooler, laying them on the top for Bloodhound.

“

“Yes. Though snow is still the best way to cool this.” Bloodhound huffed a laugh again as they poured a generous amount into each glass.

You took one in your hand and raised it to the hunter, “To…” You floundered, “I don’t know. What do we toast to?”

Bloodhound held their glass up, “To new friendships and a long rest.” They tapped your glasses together before laying the drink back on the bar and waiting.

“Ah, sorry.” You turned around as they reached to undo the straps of their respirator, “You don’t have to take it off if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Bloodhound tapped the back of your elbow, “I do not mind.” Their voice was soft but gentle, like the sound of a strong wave against the beach, powerful but not hurtful. You turned around and smiled at their scarred face, the pale skin covered in thin veins of tough scars from an old injury. Their goggles stayed in place with their head wear and scarves, which prevented anything else from being revealed. Still, the gently slope of their lips made you wonder how someone with such a pretty, yet scarred mouth, could be a vicious hunter in a game of blood sport. 

Bloodhound ignored your eyes looking over their scars and gave a small smile. It was a simple small twist of the corner of their lips before they took a large swallow of Brennivín and hissed at the burning in the back of their throat, “That is stronger than I have had.” They coughed a couple of time before chuckling and motioning to your own drink which you had not touched, “You have toasted but not drank.”

You swallowed heavily, “I don’t know if I want to after your reaction, and you’ve been drinking it all your life.”

“It is not that bad, so long as your stomach is strong.” Bloodhound insisted with another chuckle, “You will be fine. Give it a taste.”

“If you insist.” You joked as you took a sip of the liquor. It took a moment for the taste to pass and the burning sensation to clench your throat, “Oh my…” You gave a sharp cough and cringed at the burn before breathing deeply to try and ease it.

“It is good for the soul.” Bloodhound chuckled again before Artur squawked and tried to dip his beak into the glass, “No, my friend, it is far too strong for you.” They eased the bird from their shoulder and watched the Raven protest and hop along the bar, ruffling his feathers and pecking at the wood and bar taps.

Suddenly you felt at a loss for what to say. You had wondered if Bloodhound would ever show up. They were under no obligation to, of course, they had merely been interested in keeping Revenant in line, but you had to wonder if they enjoyed your company.

“So, what’s kept you away? Has Revenant kept you busy?” You asked as you watched Bloodhound sip at the drink.

Bloodhound gave a grumble, “Unfortunately. The robot cannot control itself.” Their fingers twitched in the motion as though they were playing with something and you watched them reached to their thigh and pluck free a short throwing dagger before they proceeded to spin the blade back and forth and around their fingers in a dexterous display.

“I don’t doubt that.” You commented as you dragged yourself over a stool and sat in front of Bloodhound, “I know it first-hand, after all.” You tried to laugh a little to not remember the night of the slaughter across your bar floor, but the blood and guts were fresh in your mind. The alcohol’s sting was welcome as you avoided Bloodhound’s eyes behind the orange tinted goggles.

A hand on your own shocked you, and you looked up just as they slid the knife across the bar, the tip of the blade tapping at your wrist.

“You do not have to fear him, krúttið mitt.” Bloodhound uttered before revealing bright, white teeth. Two fangs dipped out from under their top lip and you found yourself staring a little as their other hand cupped your palm and squeezed softly, comfortingly.

“I don’t fear him…” You tried to ease your hand out with a gentle tug, “I just don’t want him near me or my bar, ever again. I wouldn’t hesitate to…to…”

“I admire your bravery, but you would be dead before you could touch a wire. He is an animal now, do not forget that. He would have little regard for your life.” Bloodhound grumbled again, “I have seen him torture my fellows. I know what he is capable of. You are best to stay away.”

“And what, you’ll protect me?” You scoffed, “I’ve heard that before.”

“I will.” Bloodhound’s goggled eyes looked towards your own, the deep brown glinting through with the shine of the antique lighting, “I will make sure he bothers you no longer, this I promise.” They covered their heart and bowed their head, “And if I fail, then you will have the right to hate me.”

You took your hands away with a frown before shaking it and giving a wet, upset laugh, “There’s no need for the dramatics. I believe you.” You watched Bloodhound drag their hands back after a moment before you held the bottle of Brennivín again, “Another?”

“I would rather not partake again but thank you.” Bloodhound reached for their respirator and fixed it back into place. Their respirator whooshed quietly as you put the bottle back in its appropriate place.

“Do you have matches coming up?” You asked as you worked quietly behind the bar, facing the cabinet.

Bloodhound shook their head, the beads and bones of their hat clicking together, “Not soon, but I promised Loba I would help her practice her hand to hand.” They stated softly, “Though I think it is her way of gauging our individual abilities.” They confessed with a peer up the bar at Artur who was contently admiring himself in a metal nut dish.

Loba seemed to hardly need such training, “I think you’re probably right about that.” You chuckled, “Watching the test match…Well she really doesn’t need the training, huh?”

Bloodhound hummed in agreement, “She is up to something.” They commented mildly.

“Like what? I thought you were all there for the contest and the titles…or whatever it is you all like.” You asked as you leaned over to finish the last of the liquor in your glass with another cringe and a cough. You decided one glass was more than enough for you as well.

“Titles?” Bloodhound hummed, “I have three titles of Apex Predator, but that is not why I do this…The hunt is what I live for.” They confessed with another look at their knife, their glove testing the sharpness of the edge before they levelled their gaze on you, “None of us are kind people, but there are far more dangerous folk than I in these games. I am here to honour my Gods and my family. Others for fame. Others for death.”

“That’s…” You swallowed, “I didn’t mean to assume anything.”

“You have done no harm. Now you know my reasoning.” Bloodhound nodded their head, “I live for the hunt and to honour the All Father.” They confessed quietly as they slid the knife away.

There was a moment of quiet between the two of you before Bloodhound looked back at the door and to Artur who hopped along the bar back to the hunter’s arm. The Raven pecked at Bloodhound’s sleeve before he climbed back up to their shoulder, perched, watching you with two beady black eyes.

“I can’t say I understand it, but I respect it. It’s better than a lot of people.” You smiled at Bloodhound before remembering the jar of pickled meats you had gotten, “Oh, wait a minute. I know you want to go but I have something for you.” You rushed into the kitchen and rooted through the cupboards. Your washing robot chirped in confusion, large question marks floating over his screen as you finally pulled free the pickled game that you had purchased. Thankfully, when you rushed back into the bar, Bloodhound was still perched on their seat, watching you with their head slightly tilted in curiosity.

You placed the jar on the bar top, “I got these from the same merchant as the Brennivín. He said that anyone who liked Brennivín would love this.” You tapped the metal lid of the jar before sliding it closer to Bloodhound, “Take it as a thank you for what you’ve done for me.”

Bloodhound eyed the jar before carefully pulling it closer with a gloved hand, their respirator whooshing quietly with air before they reached to undo the lid. It came off with a pop and carefully they leaned to look into the pickling liquid.

“Pickled pheasant.” They whispered before looking back to you, maybe to assess your motive and reasoning, “I have no had this since I was a child.” They confessed as they screwed the lid back into place, “There was an old woman, we all called Amma, who made the best. Sour but meaty. Cooked just right. She passed some years into my teenage life. So, I thank you. This is a fine gift, krúttið mitt.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled before looking back to the orange goggles, which hid dangerous eyes, “You keep calling me that…What does it mean?” You asked.

Bloodhound shook their head, the metal beads and nuts of their headwear clinking before they stood from the bar seat, “Perhaps that is something for another day. It is late and I have a long way back to my residence.” They reached for the jar and tucked it under their arm, “Thank you, for the drink, gift and for your time.”

“Its not a problem. You’re actually lovely company.” You complimented.

“Thank you?” The hunter seemed a little flustered, “I am oft’ told I am…too stoic and boring.” Bloodhound gave a small breathy laugh before tipping their hat, “I will see you again. Good night.”

“Good night, Bloodhound.” You followed them to the door and closed it behind them, watching through the window as Artur took off into the sky and Bloodhound melted into the shadows past the streetlamps.

The break between the seasons was a little longer this time. Various legends had injuries which needed to heal and personal business to attend to before they could get back to what they did best. That meant that Bloodhound had more free time to come to the bar. Sometimes they had a drink, but others they did not. The legend was not much of a drinker and you figured that out when one night they had around four drinks and swayed in their seat, back and forth, grumbling about each and every legend. Mirage came up often. It was usually how annoying the man was for a playboy. Loba came up a few times in the same category. A flirt by nature she managed to ruffle Bloodhound’s feathers often and the hunter made it clear how much they despised the foolery of it all. Other times, Bloodhound showed up after closing and simply talked about their day, carefully retelling tales they thought you would enjoy. That’s how the stories started. When you were alone, each with a drink and a snack, Bloodhound would think of a tale from their childhood, about the Gods or folktales which were too whimsical to ever believe. You were entranced by their voice and storytelling capabilities, and a few times you watched Artur settled down to sleep with the gentle rhythm. You yourself could have also fallen asleep with the peace that settled over you both in those moments. They became precious memories to you as you greeted Bloodhound at the door with a smile and a drink or food.

All you had to wonder was if they felt the same way.

The night before the season start was cold. The wintertime was rolling in, even to the city, and you made sure to keep the bar doors firmly closed the whole night and the heaters on. Even your washing robot complained about his coolants being far too cold. You shuddered in a jumper as you placed the last of the glasses away and peered at the clock. It was very late. A knock made you grin, even as your teeth attempted to chatter, and you headed to the small back door and unlocked the electronic system, smiling up at Bloodhound as they ducked a little to enter. Artur squawked on top of their head and you laughed as Bloodhound shook their head to make the Raven move.

“Good evening.” Bloodhound uttered, “Forgive me for being sudden, I know you have no said anything yet, but I have something to ask of you?” They asked in a rush, their voice betraying a small amount of urgency.

“Hi to you too.” You teased before stepping back to let them inside, “Sure. Is anything wrong?”

Bloodhound shook their head, “Nothing of the sort.” They promised before they reached to remove their hat, revealing a wrap of dark cloth hiding their hair and features from you still. They ducked their head and placed their hand over their heart, “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me out?”

It was very old fashioned, but you remembered that Bloodhound had grown up very isolated away from the normal city life and culture. A smile split your face before you could control yourself.

“You mean like on a date?” You asked curiously.

Bloodhound swallowed audibly, “If that is agreeable to you? If not, then you may forget that this ever occurred…”

“No!” You rushed to catch their gloved hand and smiled, “I would be honoured…But let me get a coat, okay? Its too cold to be outside without too many layers.”

“Of course. Take your time. We will have to travel by hover to get there.” Bloodhound nodded as they turned back to the door, “I will wait at the front.” They promised.

“Okay. I’ll not be long. I just have to get a coat and lock up.” You rushed into the back and up the stairs to your small flat over the top of the bar. After snatching a warm coat from its hook and you rushed back and helped your washing robot back into the charging point before locking all the doors. Eventually, you appeared out of the front door and looked at the hovering vehicle.

Bloodhound hopped from the vehicle and you looked at the old engines with a fond smile. It was similar to an ancient snowmobile, but it hovered above the ground with old technology, humming much louder than any of the newer modern models.

“I haven’t seen a mobile like this in a long time.” You nodded appreciatively of it.

“It is old, but she will get us to where we need to go.” Bloodhound promised with a soft chuckle, “It is up in the mountain.” They pointed up past the city outskirts to the mountain beyond, “The snow has fallen so we will need her to move through the terrain unhindered.” They stood by the side of the vehicle next to the back which was packed with fur and blankets. You smiled excitedly before you took hold of the hunter’s gloved hand and let them help you into the small back compartment. You sat carefully and laughed as Bloodhound flicked the hover mobile into action and punching the gas. The two of you streamed down the old roadways towards the outskirts, quickly leaving behind the blue light pollution as the fields turned into old pine trees.

The mountain was cold, and you laughed brightly again as Bloodhound engaged the snow skis and the hover vehicle sprayed snow either side of you both. It was exhilarating to be out of the pollution riddled, busy city, and be in the fresh air of the countryside. You held your head high in the fresh, cold air and watched Bloodhound navigate the mountain with ease, their shoulders relaxed as they handled the controls with small turns and touches. You looked at the ancient trees with awe.

“Do you come up here often?” You asked over the hum of the engine.

“Not often enough.” Bloodhound replied, their feet planted firmly as they made a sharp turn and revved the engine again, heading up towards a large rock platform jutting from the side of the mountain. You looked at the place and wondered if it was warm, as there was no snow covering the grey surface of the stone.

“Is that where we’re heading?” You shuffled in your seat to look over the side of the vehicle.

“Yes. We are almost there.” Bloodhound peered over their shoulder, orange goggles glinting in the small amount of light from the lamps they had on the front and back of the snowmobile, “Keep inside. Some rocks could catch you.” They scolded as you headed towards the platform with another grumble from the old engine.

“Careful. The snow hides holes and rocks.” Bloodhound jumped from the snowmobile before they held out their hand to help you out of the small seat in the back.

“Thank you.” You took their hand and hopped out before watching your breath steam in the air and laughing excitedly, rushing over the rocks to go and look out across the city below, “This is amazing!” You cried as Bloodhound dragged the blankets and a basket from the back of the vehicle, “How did you find this?”

“I have time to waste occasionally.” Bloodhound chuckled before they reached for another pack and you rushed to help, taking the large bundle of blankets to help them a little, “Thank you, krúttið mitt.”

“You still haven’t told me what that means.” You joked as you carried the blankets to the edge and unwrapped the cord which held them in a large roll.

Bloodhound placed the basket down before hefting the furs from their shoulder. They gazed over the mountain’s edge before replying, “It means something…like sweetheart.” They confessed in a hushed voice.

You looked at them and smiled, sensing their unease, “That’s adorable.”

“I am glad you like it.” Bloodhound returned in a rush before looking at the pile of blankets you had set out and dragging them out on top of one another, “I did…I thought it was perhaps stepping over a boundary?”

“You worry a lot, you know.” You joked as you sat over the blanket and accepted a heavy, outstretched fur, “I…I can’t hate it, because its from you, and you mean a lot to me Bloodhound.”

“I…” Bloodhound seemed stunned, “You mean more than you know to me.” They draped another fur over you before sitting close and peering down at you through their orange goggles. You took the initiative and tugged your own furs over Bloodhound’s lap before sitting closer. You were close enough to feel the heat from their covered skin, but you only smiled and took one of their hands, linking your fingers before you looked out at the city, far, far below, and listened to the peace around the two of you.

“I have brought food…like those…how do you say it. Picnics!” Bloodhound exclaimed softly as they dragged the basket over and squeezed at your hand, enjoying the contact even through their thick clothing.

“A picnic? What have you brought?” You asked as you leaned over Bloodhound’s lap to peer at the contents of the wicker basket. It was covered with a deep blue cloth and they dragged it away before revealing a small selection of food you had never seen before.

“They are delicacies from my home world.” Bloodhound pulled free a small jar and you recognised the pickled meat you had given them, “I thought it would be…nice to share them with you as I tell you a story. I had to spend a long time remembering this one.” They confessed as they pulled free a dense looking load of bread and a tub of butter, “If that is what you want?”

You tugged the furs closer and nodded as they sliced the bread on a plate and buttered you a piece, “Of course, you know I love the stories!” You gushed as you took the bread and took a bite, humming as Bloodhound fished you free a piece of meat and then showed you the mushrooms they had also covered in a form of sauce. It looked spicy and you gladly dug in as they cautiously reached for their respirator.

Their hands reached for the straps and you watched the elastics loosen as they pulled the clips free and the respirator fell away with a quiet whoosh of air, revealing their scarred lower face. They smiled at you, revealing a single point of one canine before they took a moment to get used to the mountain air.

“Does it not hurt?” You asked worriedly, “I know…”

Bloodhound held up their hand before they coughed a few times over their shoulder, “No. It takes some time to adjust. The fresh air is fine, but the city. The air there hurts.” Bloodhound’s fingers squeezed your hand again in comfort as they coughed a few more times before finally growing used to the unfiltered air.

“These mushrooms…I’m amazed!” You cooed to distract them, happy to see them smile again as you gobbled another, “I never thought you…”

“That pickled foods would taste good?” Bloodhound teased with a small wheeze, “I confess, I thought you would hate them. They are an acquired taste, krúttið mitt.” They took a small bite of bread before seeking a large piece of game and tearing it apart easily with pointed teeth, chewing quickly before the rest of the piece followed. You only continued to eat, waiting for them to start the tale you wanted to hear.

“Before there was day. Night ruled the frozen wastes.” Bloodhound started as they laid back, tugging you into the blankets so you could both gaze up at the bright stars hanging above the two of you, “There was a goddess of light, controlled by her ruler the Night, banished to a cage in the sky, twinkling in the halls of the Night as she wept tears of silver light from between the bars.” They gestured to the sky above, “She reached between the bars and begged the Night to let her free, to let her roam and dance across the night sky. He denied her, selfish and greedy for her light to himself. So bright was her light, he wanted to keep her beauty of silver flesh and hair for himself.” Bloodhound watched a start twinkle, “One day, the goddess wept again but she whispered to the tears as they dripped from her eyes, of the universe and adventure, of life and protection. The tears dripped from her cage and painted the halls with bright silver spots, blinding and glorious. Night returned to find her cage empty, the only remnants of his light the bright tears rolling from the stone and falling into the sky below, dancing over the blackness one by one, brightening the world with a glorious silver light. She danced that night, between her own tears, on pointed toes, jumping from light to light, causing the sky to twinkle with joy, even in the darkest of nights.” Bloodhound pointed to the North Star, “She wore a crown of stars, blessed in her freedom from her own tears, making constellations with her dances to defy the Night.”

You gazed in wonder at the sky, “What did they call this Goddess?”

Bloodhound chuckled, “Nothing. She was simply, the stars.” They gestured to the stars again, “I think there is beauty in that story. She was free with her own will to dance and defy all those that would work against her.” They sighed, “It was my favourite as a child.”

“I can see why. It is a beautiful tale.” You whispered, trying not to disturb the peace that had settled over the two of you, “Even if it started so sadly.”

“Not as wonderous as you.” Bloodhound whispered next to your ear as they turned their head, “I never thought the stories would pale in comparison, but the Gods seem an eon away when I gaze at you.” Carefully, they reached to remove their gloves before they shakily reached to touch at your cheek, brushing their fingertips gently over your cheekbone. Bloodhound’s mouth parted as they followed the trail with their eyes. Their calloused hands touched your cheek and gently traced a path over your nose and then down to your chin, leaving a streak of heat in their wake, “It is blasphemy but I…” They swallowed, “I believe I love you. We have spent so much time together and you consume my mind no matter the task I undertake.”

Fire laced your veins as you pulled the tracker forwards to press your lips to theirs, kissing their soft, scarred lips with fervour enough to demonstrate your point. Bloodhound was frozen for a moment before they returned the kiss, their arms wrapping around your back tightly as their goggles dug into the bridge of your nose. You didn’t mind. You pushed against them with a hum before moving away. Bloodhound tried to chase your lips, breathing a little heavier, a wheeze emanating from their chest.

“I love you too.” You whispered, cupping their cheeks.

Bloodhound smiled crookedly again before they reached up and pushed their goggles away. Their cloth dipped a little to reveal their bright ginger hair, tamed in braids and clasps, but you didn’t touch it, you simply looked into their deep, dark brown eyes, amazed by the mix of red in the colour. Their eyes were almost maroon. You kissed Bloodhound again.

“You…” They eased back, “You do not care that I am…”

“You are Bloodhound, master of the hunt and the one I love.” You gushed as you held them tightly, burying your face in their clothing, “Nothing else matters. We can take our time with everything else.”

“I…Thank you, krúttið mitt. You mean so much to me.” They confessed with another soft peck to your lips.

“I love you, Bloodhound.” You confessed again, affirming it even to yourself, as though it was not real.

“I love you too, my darling.” Bloodhound whispered against your ear as you clutched each other under the furs, laid before the night sky.

The Stars twinkled across the central belt as the Goddess danced for the happiness that she had witnessed that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so this draws to a close. Any further updates might just be NSFW if I have the time. It took a lot out of me to finish this and I will make the changes to the error about Artur being a crow in the first chapter.  
> Either way thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos. See you again soon!

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into Apex Legends. Please comment about any errors. I've taken a few liberties with lore and such but if you have any issues again shoot me a message on here or Tumblr. Hopefully you enjoyed! My two faves are in this because I adore them both...so so much.


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